


Aziraphale, I Know What We're Going to Do Today

by honiedpanda4



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Motorcycles, One Shot, antique shop, book shop, literally just crowley and aziraphale being as extra as possible
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:02:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26563318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honiedpanda4/pseuds/honiedpanda4
Summary: Crowley, in typical bored house-husband fashion, impulse bought a motorcycle. His ride with Aziraphale through the country is anything but idyllic.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18
Collections: Fanfic Roulette 2020 Round 4





	Aziraphale, I Know What We're Going to Do Today

Crowley was fucking bored. Bored of out of his goddamn skull. He wasn’t bored of his angel, of course- Aziraphale was the furthest thing from boring- but their routine was becoming a little… well…  _ routine _ . So Crowley did the same thing most bored middle-aged husbands did; he bought a motorcycle.

He’d had to physically pry Aziraphale from his reading nook, dragging him out to the street.

“Come  _ on _ , angel, pick your feet up!”

“Perhaps if you hadn’t rushed me away in the middle of something,  _ Anthony- _ ”

“Oh, don’t ‘Anthony’ me,” he interrupted crossly, stopping by the coat rack to toss one to Aziraphale. “Here, put on your jacket.” He confusedly obeyed, following Crowley out the door. He jogged to the sidewalk, presenting the bike to Aziraphale with a broad sweeping of his arms. His brows furrowed.

“Who left a motorcycle in front of the bookshop?” Crowley rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses.

“Me, angel.”

“Why would you put a motorcycle there?”

“Because it’s mine!”

Aziraphale blinked.

“But you already have the car-”

“Yes, I know I have the car, and I love it! I love the car,” he said defensively. “I just thought it was time for a little something new, is all. I never do anything for myself.” Aziraphale frowned severely. “Name one thing!”

“You bought a  £300 jacket last week.”

“It was a nice jacket!”

“It looks exactly the same as your other jackets!”

Crowley spluttered in an undignified manner.

“Just because it’s all leather doesn’t mean it’s all the  _ same _ !” Aziraphale pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Okay. Okay, okay.” He took a steadying breath. “Congratulations on the death machine. I’m going to go back to-”

“Nuh-uh, you’re not getting away that easily!” Crowley cried, grabbing him by the wrist and smacking a helmet onto his head. Aziraphale squawked indignantly.

“Crowley! What’s the meaning of this?!”

“We’re going for a ride!”

“Have you gone mad?! I’m not riding on a motorcycle!”

“Why not, angel?” Crowley pleaded, exasperated.

“Look at it! It doesn’t even have doors! No sides, either! It relies on, what,  _ balance _ ? No thank you!”

"Then I'll get you a side-car! But for now, just hop on!"

"Absolutely not."

Aziraphale turned to go back into the shop.  _ Think fast, think fast! _

“If you go for a ride with me… ” he began. Angel stopped mid-step, glancing over his shoulder.

“Then what?”

“Then… I’ll go to the stuffy art museum with you.”

True to form, his angel turned right back around, bounding over to clasp their hands together.

“Really? You’ll go with me?” Aziraphale’s eyes sparkled. Crowley sighed, somehow defeated even though he’d won.

“Yes, really.” Aziraphale adjusted the helmet, his face disappearing beneath. 

“One ride, then. A short one. No danger.”

“Of course, angel.”

Crowley hopped on the bike and donned his own helmet, patting the spot behind him for Aziraphale. He got on, clinging fearfully to Crowley as he leaned the vehicle to the side to push back the kickstand. 

“Pissing yourself already, angel?”

“Get disincorporated!”

Crowley laughed as he revved the gas. He already loved the noise it made, loved the way it purred like a great big panther.  _ Time for a little fun! _

He took off like a bat out of hell. Aziraphale screamed, squeezing Crowley so tight he almost couldn’t breathe. 

“I thought we agreed no danger!” 

“I changed my mind: YES DANGER!” He punched the gas even harder, whizzing toward the countryside. There was remarkably little traffic.

“I don’t like this, Crowley, slow down!”

“Oh c’mon, angel, live a little!”

He rounded a sharp bend, the motorcycle tilting so far to the side that if Crowley let go of the handlebars he’d be able to touch the asphalt. Aziraphale screamed bloody murder, even as they tilted back upright.

“For fuck’s sake, Zira, I won’t let anything happen! Stop screaming!”   
“You want me to stop screaming?! We’re going to get  _ disincorporated _ and you want me to stop  _ screaming _ ?!”

“Yes! Where am I losing you here?”

“CROWLEY, LOOK OUT!”

He turned his attention back to the road just in time to see the problem. Cows standing around in the road. It was far too late to stop, so Crowley did the next best thing: sped up.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

“Hang on tight!”

Crowley had missed the feeling of soaring through the air. He hadn’t had many excuses to be airborne lately, after all. It was exhilarating. Maybe it was just Aziraphale’s death grip around his torso, but he felt  _ breathless _ , even.  _ Who knew jumping over some cows was in today’s agenda? Life on this little planet is so damn strange, I love it…  _

The wheels squealed as they returned to solid ground. Crowley wrestled for control over the steering for only a moment before getting them both back on course. Aziraphale had pressed himself so close to Crowley’s body, he felt as if he were wearing a second skin. He was still screaming.

“Aziraphale!” he snapped. “You’re fine! We’re fine! Calm down!”

“How do you expect me to calm down?! I thought we were just going for a little ride, this is  _ madness _ ! I want off the ride, Crowley!”

“Oh please, angel, just a little longer!” he pleaded.

“You owe me two more museum trips!” Crowley grinned widely behind his visor. 

“Make it three!”

“Wha- AHHHH!!!”

Crowley punched the gas, coaxing the motorcycle to go as fast as it could.  _ I just want to test her limits,  _ he thought.  _ Hm, I wonder why I immediately pegged it as a “her”. Is that sexist? Eh, God’s a her. I think my bike can be a her, it’s fine.  _

“Crowley, you weasel-sucking son of a- WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS!!!” Crowley took another sharp turn, this time down a dirt road. Dust blazed a trail behind them.

“I love when you get creative with the pet names!” he teased, adjusting his grip on the handlebars. Aziraphale did not know about the winding roads ahead, but Crowley sure did. He slowed a tad only to prepare for the many turns. “Alright, angel, this is the last stretch before we take a break!” he warned.

“Oh, thank- WHAT?!”

He had noticed the route they were taking far too late.  _ Wouldn’t you know, he is familiar with it, then. Oh well…  _

“CROWLEY, YOU- AHHHHHHH!!!”

“Ah, music to my ears!” he said, easily taking the first left turn.

“YOU REALLY ARE A DEMON. I’M NEVER GETTING ON THIS THING AGAIN!”

“You say that now, angel, but by this time tomorrow you’ll be saying it wasn’t that bad!”

“I DOUBT THAT!”

Crowley took each curve in the road with grace and agility. He wished he wasn’t wearing a helmet so he could enjoy the wind whipping against his face. Stupid UK helmet laws. At least he had the amusement of Aziraphale’s melodramatic terror. He decided they’d take a much more leisurely way home. He didn’t want to turn the angel off from riding with him  _ forever _ , after all.

They did not, in fact, disincorporate while riding the snake-like path. Once they were on the straight and narrow again, Aziraphale’s cries began to die down, though he continued berating Crowley. He found it all deeply entertaining.

“Where are you taking me, anyway?” Aziraphale demanded.

“I heard there might be a rare book at an antique shop six kilometers out from here. I thought you might like to check it out.”

“A rare book?  _ Oh _ , what kind?” he asked excitedly.

“Don’t know, don’t care, angel. But I figure you’ll know it when you see it.”

“Oh, goodie! That’s so exciting, I-  _ jealous crabapples _ , Crowley!”

He swung into the antique shop’s small parking lot a little too fast for Aziraphale’s liking. The place was deserted, so he parked right in the middle. The engine cut out smoothly and the kickstand popped back out without a hitch.  _ Oh, I love this thing.  _ Aziraphale shoved his helmet into Crowley’s arms before he’d even dismounted, almost skipping toward the shop with all the glee of a child at a toy store. Crowley rolled his eyes affectionately, catching up and holding the door open for him.  _ He’s more emotionally volatile than anyone would anticipate. Such a bastard. But he’s my bastard…  _ Crowley leaned against a shelf, watching Aziraphale pick through the collection of books, the terror of their ride in dissolving with every passing second.  _ My angel,  _ he thought.

He frowned suddenly.  _ Wait a fucking second, how many museum trips did I promise him?! _

“Anthony, look!” Aziraphale cried, holding up… a crusty old book.

“Lovely!” he feigned. 

“Do you have any idea what this is? It’s a first-edition copy of…”

  
Crowley tuned out entirely. He didn’t know anything about books and didn’t care to learn. But he loved how Aziraphale’s eyes sparkled as he spoke, how enraptured he was with turning the ancient pages. It was  _ adorable _ to watch.  _ How anyone wouldn’t fall in love with him is beyond me…  _ He let him drag him toward the counter to haggle with the store owner.  _ I’ll go on as many fancy museum trips as he wants. I’m just glad to be spending time with him.  _ He wrapped his arm around Aziraphale’s shoulders as they went back out toward the bike, still blathering about the book he now had tucked under his arm.  _ Yep, this is it. This is perfection. Just my angel and me.  _ And to Crowley, it really, really was.


End file.
